Mist and Mirrors
by Tendertooks
Summary: As he is bathing, Shibuya Yuuri encounters a stranger with power. Hauntingly familiar, this man gives Yuuri something he isn't likely to forget. MaouxYuuri


**Mist and Mirrors **

**2011 NOTE: **I'm sorry if you'll be wrongfully updated of this fic, I just thought to edit some of the mistakes I have as practice for my upcoming works.

**Warnings**: PWP, dark!Maou, anal, minor breath play, dubious consent, religious connotations

**A/N:** I know, I know, weird couple. But it's my first Kyou Kara Maoh, and since I loooove anyone with Yuuri as long as Yuuri's sub, I thought I might as well get rid of a challenge that had been lurking at the pits of my web-infested brain. This is the FF version, meaning some hard core stuff was cut off.

**Disclaimer:**I stick Kyou Kara Maoh characters in my pants, but that doesn't mean I own them.

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Shibuya Yuuri wasn't accustomed to luxury, but ever since being flushed down to Shin Makoku, he had accepted it as a part of being a King. True, he wasn't accustomed to his title, either, but in order to gracefully accept his position and become a proper monarch, he supposed he had to deal with every part of it- title, powers and all.

Just as he had accepted his responsibilities. Yes, he'd accepted them, more than anyone would give him credit for. No matter what anyone else said, Yuuri _knew_ he took Shin Makoku seriously, and he was proud of himself. In a year, he'd worked hard to establish a newfound peace, he'd changed the ways and the customs and gave hope and a vision of a wonderful future.

He'd done an okay job. Well, he didn't have much dignity or class, and he wasn't too rational with the down-to-earth decisions. But those imperfections didn't bother him much.

If there was one thing that _did_ bother him, it was the fact that he felt powerless.

Oh, he knew he had _authority_ as the king. He knew he had astounding Majutsu. He knew that he turned into the Great Maou whenever a situation was looking bleak. But the fact that he could not _control_ himself during such a time left him feeling even more vulnerable than if he had no power at all. And this problem kept nagging him— the fact that he could not properly protect his country like he wanted. It nagged him to the deepest pit of his heart.

He wanted to be stronger, but he did not know how. And until he figured that out, he knew he just had to make do.

Yuuri sighed, grateful for the warm water lapping at his hips and the relaxing sound of the fountain splashing onto the tiled marble. He had been alone for some time now, reflecting in the Maou's bath as what he usually did before bedtime. Carefully, he rinsed himself of soap suds, content that he could rest in such a way after a gruelling hard day at his desk.

"Hello, King Yuuri."

Yuuri jerked upright at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. No, unfamiliar wasn't it. In fact the voice sounded _too_ familiar that he couldn't place it.

He quickly scanned the murky room, foggy in the mist that permeated the area. From one of the dark corners, he could see the mist gravitating towards a dark shadow. The shadow condensed as the wispy steam enveloped it, and as it moved towards the light it became more solid, taking form of a man with a hard expression, staring straight at him.

"Uhh, who are you?" Yuuri asked, nervous, "What are you doing here? This is the Maou's bathing area... sir."

"I am aware of that, your Highness." said the man darkly.

Yuuri could see him properly now. The stranger was a little taller than himself, a soukoku- but unlike his own "normal" schoolboy looks, this stranger's features seemed somehow otherworldly— jet-black hair and piercing coal eyes. His hair was a little longer than Yuuri's, coming down to rest at his shoulders. His expression was grim, somehow stern in a noble manner and yet close to looking sulky as well.

And suddenly Yuuri realized his own nakedness, and crouched down to hide in the water. He blushed, but continued to watch as the stranger reached up to the front of his shirt. He was wearing Yuuri's clothes, and Yuuri wondered how it could be so. Had a set been stolen some time ago? Was this some practical joke? Did it just so happen that this stranger had the exact same clothes he had?

Little by little, the man pulled off the buttons, his hand calm and smooth; he wasn't bashful at all. Yuuri could see a bit of smooth chest peeping out of the opening and bit his lip.

"Wh-what are you doing sir?" Yuuri asked, trying his best not to panic, but sounding very much so. The man gave a long, languid smirk, his eyes glinting as he cocked his head, "You really don't recognize me?"

With the flick of his wrist the man undid the last button, and it took only a moment before he'd dropped his shirt carelessly to the ground. His hands moving towards the top of his trousers next, steely gaze never leaving Yuuri's face. Yuuri was arrested with those eyes, they seemed magnetic somehow- chilling.

"I've... I've seen you somewhere." he muttered quietly.

"Very good."

The man's pants dropped, revealing willowy legs and a very large, very erect cock, pulsing dark with want. In his shock Yuuri stared at the member for a long moment, before flushing from his neck up and splashing water clumsily as he turned away.

"What is the matter, King Yuuri?" whispered the stranger, and Yuuri could tell he was smirking despite the fact that he was facing the other way, his own eyes glaring holes at the white pillar of the bath pool. Beneath the warm water, he could feel himself getting hard, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to will it away. What the hell was happening?

For a moment Yuuri thought of calling out to Conrad, or Wolfram- anyone for help. Surely his friends would be able to extricate this pervert from the showers, right? But as Yuuri thought of it, he somehow knew that nobody would be able to oppose this stranger. There was something strangely feral about him, something that exuded a quiet, dark power. And the way his gaze burned the back of Yuuri's nape was certainly erotic.

Oh god, what was happening? Why was he aroused by a look, by a man by a _stranger_, of all things? Yuuri had to admit this stranger was stunning- ethereal in every aspect, just as someone would expect of a god. A long straight nose, a strong chin and a handsome jaw line. His lips were lean and straight someone accustomed to frowning, and those piercing, piercing black eyes shaped so sharply it was as if they were designed to wound.

The stranger's body was nothing to scoff at, either, and though Yuuri had only glanced upon him, the image was seared into his memory. He had tan skin shimmering with the misted dew, a lean frame and sinewy muscles. Yuuri recalled the dip of a very obvious collarbone, the narrow waist and the unbelievably gifted turgid length- and he felt the heat on his face as his thoughts lurked upon that particular detail.

And then there was that husky voice, so soft and dangerous, "What is the matter, Yuuri?"

_Yuuri_. The way he said it— it was as if he was an old friend, taunting him. No— as if this stranger knew about him, new every thought and every detail of his person. Yuuri couldn't understand it, and before he had the chance to ponder deeply, he'd felt the water shifting behind him, indicating that this naked stranger, this beautiful, perilous man was drawing into the water and trudging towards him.

_ Holy shit, _was Yuuri's first thought, and then there was no thought at all as cold fingers clamped upon his shoulders and drew him against a hard chest. The water lapped at them in that violent movement, and the skin-on-skin contact between his back and the man's front was electric. Yuuri could only gasp when taut lips came upon his neck in the most titillating fashion imaginable. Oh, he tried to struggle against him, tried to deny the sensations, but the man was strong, determined; his hands held Yuuri to his place as he lapped and sucked at the slender neck. Yuuri felt his stomach lurch as if he'd suddenly fallen into a large pit.

Then there was a warm tongue at the lobe of his ear, feeling the soft flesh there, and Yuuri shuddered and lost his balance against his captor. He felt one hand roaming down the expanse of his chest while the other gripped him tightly on his waist, but it was that tongue, it was those lips on his ear that made his heartbeat quicken, made his breathing shallow. It extricated him from their surroundings—the noise of the water tapping onto the marble was a faraway distraction, in fact the very room they were in seemed another world away.

"Who are you?" Yuuri asked desperately, between his gasps. His captor gave another throaty growl and bit down at the shell of his ear. The hands feeling every bit of his skin grew more fierce, almost certainly exploring, ravaging, claiming him.

And then he breathed a whisper into his ear, a dark husky tone that Yuuri would die for.

"I am the Maou."

Yuuri's eyes shot open, but before he could react, the stranger reached down beneath the water and gripped him in his most sensitive place. Yuuri gasped, feeling nothing but that sweet pull and the strangled moan coming out of his lips. The Maou worked him in long, sure strokes beneath the water, thrusting his own large length against the plush cheek of Yuuri's behind, where it nudged impatiently at him.

"I am the Maou, your shadow and your mirror." Said the man, his guttural voice licking at Yuuri's ear.

"I am justice where you are mercy." he squeezed Yuuri deftly, causing the young boy to choke, his hands grabbing at the Maou's wrists in an attempt of defiance. But the Maou held on, his other hand reaching up to thumb a hardening nipple. Yuuri groaned, and gave a savage kick, but his heels had already lost anchor with the slippery floor, and the attempt amounted to nothing but a graze of each other's hips. The Maou gave a dark, throaty purr in response.

"I am your unleashed power, and tonight you are mine."

And then the stranger leaned in and bit the soft part of Yuuri's neck, the portion just below the jaw. Yuuri felt the white blaze of arousal deep in the pits of his gut. The knowledge of it made him grasp at any opportunity to get away- he floundered ungracefully, twisting and pushing against those arms until he felt himself slip from the other man's grasp. He wasted no time, and clambered over to the nearest edge of the bath pool, but before he could get himself out he felt a sudden, ice-cold grip on his ankles.

Water serpents. He could _swear_ there were water serpents on his ankles, crackling with Majutsu— creatures that pulled him down brutally beneath the water. Yuuri struggled, hoping to gain some momentum to push back to the surface, to get one last gasp of air— but it was in vain. He cursed, wasting precious oxygen into fragile bubbles as he continued panicking blindly.

When he came dangerously close to blacking out a hand reached out and pulled him upright. Yuuri broke free of the water and automatically gasped for air, but before he had the chance to get a decent mouthful, he felt warm, cruel lips against his own.

Oh, the Maou _was_ cruel. He enjoyed Yuuri's desperation, tilted his head to get more of the luscious boy's mouth. His hands were upon Yuuri's body again, pushing him deeper into the devouring kiss. Yuuri floundered against the taller man, splashing helplessly in the waist-height water; he could feel his own tears trailing down his cheeks as he tried to push himself away, and he detested the whimper that came from the back of his throat as he struggled.

When the Maou pulled back, Yuuri gulped greedily for air.

"Why are you doing this? How are you doing this?" cried Yuuri, trying to wrestle away from the man's grasp. They were so close that he could see the slits he had for pupils, and the cold smirk, and white, slightly fanged teeth. The man was _amused_!

And he did not grant Yuuri a reply right away. He leaned in for another kiss, but this time Yuuri struggled so hard that the Maou had to grabbed his wrists to keep him from toppling over.

"I am here to make you mine," breathed the Maou, "I promise that you will enjoy it as much as I assuredly will."

Yuuri blushed bright red at that, and tried to tug his hands away, but as he drew himself back he felt the edge of the pool against his spine. He was trapped.

The Maou held his wrists with one strong hand, while the other reached out and planted itself firmly on the ledge. Yuuri felt cocooned, with the toned arm and the dripping torso so close to him. He looked up, and for all Yuuri's panic he could not help but stare at the picture this Maou made, the wet tendrils of hair framing such a handsome face, dripping water down his shoulders. Yuuri gulped.

What it was that made this man exonerate with power, Yuuri didn't know. But that aura was captivating him; this man was the strange blue flame that every moth child was tempted to touch. There was an unspeakable promise that came with this man's leashed power, and Yuuri wanted it.

"You are drawn to me, aren't you?" The Maou asked. He didn't give room for an answer, but he did bring his head down, caressing Yuuri's bruised lips with his own in a gentle fashion. To his horror, Yuuri felt his own eyes close, and his hand drawing the man closer instead of away. He leaned into the kiss, allowing the Maou's tongue to draw inside. The Maou, pleased with this, pinned Yuuri down more viciously while deepening the kiss even more.

They were both lost to each other for a time. The Maou clutching onto the back of Yuuri's head, keeping him closer, and Yuuri yielding, his hands touching the Maou desperately as his mouth was taken and bruised by passion.

Then the Maou pulled back, watching Yuuri so intensely that Yuuri felt he would melt. His lips ached, swelling as if allergic to some savoury heat. And the Maou was staring at those throbbing lips as if entranced. Then he frowned, pondering as he ran his thumb tenderly down Yuuri's neck. But Yuuri closed his eyes, moaned; and the moment was over.

"Up," commanded the Maou, "Onto the ledge."

He did not know why he was following the Maou's orders, but follow he did. Yuuri brought himself out of the pool water, and sat himself down on the edge, his slender cock protruding from his lap. The Maou crouched up after him, straddling his legs and dripping water from his body onto Yuuri's thighs. Yuuri leaned back when he felt the Maou's erection graze against his own, groaning against the damp shoulder and the warm weight that smothered him.

God—the Maou licked and bit at Yuuri's collarbone like a starved animal. His hips and erection pushed insistently upon Yuuri's leg, smearing his thigh with precome as the Maou began his descent. Yuuri's chest was covered with mouth and tongue and teeth, and he groaned as his captor drew to a nipple, flicking and teasing it until it was nothing more than a tight pebble. The Maou then traced wet trails to the other nipple with his tongue, where he did the same procedure to the hardening nub as Yuuri groaned and whimpered and sighed.

"Delectable, every inch of you," he breathed, eyes glimmering as he took the sight of Yuuri, flushed, gasping and gyrating on the tiled floor, biting the back of his hand as he whimpered. The Maou dipped his head again, warm tongue drawing south to his stomach, where it lingered, lapping at the dip and causing Yuuri to give a wild, tortured moan. Yuuri felt like his skin was on fire, and that something was clenching his gut so tightly— his eyes began to tear.

Oh, Yuuri could feel the tips of the Maou's hair as it caressed his sensitized flesh, could feel the warm breath as lips travelled to his inner thighs. The Maou had nudged his legs open, and Yuuri had acquiesced, barely able to resist squirming as that clever tongue lapped at him. The Maou growled softly as his teeth nipped a bit of flesh here and there, and Yuuri thought he would almost _come_ with that alone, the kisses on his thighs, the tongue, the lips— he'd brought his hands to touch the Maou's tousled hair, wanting him to stop and wanting him to continue, continue, continue.

The Maou looked up, his face clouded with an urgent intensity, eyes deep and hazed with arousal. "Just feel, Yuuri."

And Yuuri wanted to say, I'm feeling too much— I'm going to faint if you continue like this—

But he didn't say it out loud because, frankly, he could barely string those thoughts into words.

And the Maou ducked back down, and gave one long sweep. Yuuri gave a desperate sob, and bit his lip as the Maou, with his hot tongue, began laving _there_ with a fervent passion.

"Wait! Stop! Please!" Yuuri's own cock was aching, and he could barely repress a shudder when he felt the Maou tasting it. Then he did shudder- especially when those tiny kisses became long licks from base to tip, base to tip. Yuuri tried to move his legs, but the Maou pinned them down with his hands. Against his better judgement Yuuri glanced down, and found the Maou glaring at him hotly even as his mouth was inches away from the tip.

"Please..." Yuuri begged, tears trailing down his flushed cheeks, and he didn't know what he was begging for anymore. The Maou's eyes closed for a moment, and Yuuri had the image of a feline lapping delightedly at his bowl of milk. Then the Maou's tongue swirled over the head of his own member and Yuuri closed his eyes and arched, groaning so desperately that the Maou gave a dark chuckle.

"You taste like honey, here," he whispered, before taking him fully into his mouth.

Yuuri screamed, an erotic cry that was nevertheless muffled by the sounds of the fountain. The Maou practically devoured him with his hot mouth, suckling him tightly into his throat, tongue lapping expertly over the length and the tip and the tiny slit on top. He gave a lurch when the sucking intensified, when that tongue raked at the underside of his length. A tight pressure seemed to be tottering towards release, and Yuuri was practically sobbing with the feeling, he was so close, so fucking close-

but the mouth suddenly left him, and Yuuri shuddered in frustration as the Maou sat up, looking at him intently with his feline eyes.

"You taste so much better than anything I've ever tried," he said, huskily, and despite his calm aura Yuuri could detect a barely suppressed impatience. The Maou narrowed his eyes, "Spread your legs wider."

Yuuri blinked up at him, and with a moment lost the Maou snarled, grabbing Yuuri's thighs and spreading them himself. His eyes glittered as he greedily took in the sight of Yuuri's tear-streaked face, his young body wet and arched, hands anchoring himself as his trembling legs bent up in the air. His cock was jutting out, throbbing.

"Do you know how good you look?" growled the Maou, before pressing his cheek against Yuuri's thigh, "How utterly helpless you are, my little king? I could devour you, if I wished."

And Yuuri was feeling helpless, powerless, but at this point he couldn't care.

"Please..." he whispered, closing his eyes and allowing the tears to stream down his face.

"Please what? What is it you want me to do to you?"

Yuuri swung his head from side to side, "Anything— god, everything! Please, please..."

The Maou moved up, smirking at him wickedly, "Keep still, if you know what's good for you."

The Maou retreated so swiftly that for a moment, Yuuri had thought he had dissipated into the mist. But he'd only grabbed something by the bath, and when Yuuri peeped down, he found the Maou lathering a generous amount of bath gel on his rock-hard erection. He spread another dripping, generous amount onto his fingers, and then he was back, over Yuuri, wearing such a tight expression Yuuri had ever yet seen on him.

Without a word, a cold finger began prodding at his saliva-damped entrance, and Yuuri tensed as it impatiently began to invade him.

"You are too tight," said the Maou hoarsely as he leaned over, his finger swirling into the tiny entrance. His fondling made strange, squishing sounds, and Yuuri looked away, trying to control his blushing, trying to get comfortable. He jumped when another finger slid its way in, and now there was a small amount of pain that he was unaccustomed to. He'd glanced up at the Maou, who quickened the pace of his fingers, his searing eyes never leaving Yuuri for a moment.

"Brace yourself," and with not another word, the fingers withdrew, and a spongy, rather large head took its place, kissing at Yuuri's entrance with its drooling tip. Yuuri shuddered once more as the Maou's hands grasped his ankles, forcing them wider and shoving them back until Yuuri'd bent his knees back as far as would allow. Feeling incredibly exposed in this position and not in the slightest bit anchored, Yuuri clutched onto the Maou's back, his fingers feeling the incredible tautness of the shapely figure, his breath ghosting along the other man's neck.

That seemed to have titillated the Maou for now he shuddered.

"Fuck, Yuuri, hold still or I'll hurt you," and, as if to reiterate his point, his hips bucked. The precision of his cock caused it to slide slightly into Yuuri, and Yuuri felt it spread him, and it _did_ hurt, and he closed his eyes and squirmed, "Wait, no, _stop_, it won't fit, it won't fit-"

But the Maou only held on tightly, a determined, almost _eager_ look on his face, "No— I will have you, Yuuri, don't deny me—"

And he began pressing deeper, impaling his thick length into the small entrance. The room was filled with harsh gasps and whimpers as The Maou let himself in. He was leashing himself, barely, because goodness knows how he wanted to fuck the boy senseless already. And Yuuri certainly wasn't helping, the way he was moaning, helplessly, his body giving involuntary twitches that was driving the Maou insane. His cock was hefty, and Yuuri was a virgin, so it was for sure he would hurt the boy- but he tried desperately not to give in to that exquisite, fever heat and plummet in too fast.

There was a difference between hurting the little king, and breaking him, after all.

Little by little, inch by inch, Yuuri's body accommodated him, gripping him tightly into his wet, smouldering body. And when he could handle no more of this teasing, this madness— the Maou growled deep at the back of his throat and arched, flexing, burying his entire shaft within the boy beneath him. Yuuri gave a startled cry, his eyes opening up, wet with tears.

They gazed at each other then, each the perfect mirror of the other, and yet the exact opposite. For one was Mercy, forever the jewel of the Mazoku with his all-compassing heart. And the other was Justice, the one who wielded the power to punish and to protect. And they both were one, now— entwined beneath the mist of the bath pool, shimmering and slick with water, entangled, whole, and complete. Justice and Mercy. A perfect king.

The Maou leaned in, gently kissing Yuuri's cheek.

And then he gave one, long, deep thrust, and that was it. Yuuri felt a sharp, exquisite, wonderful feeling— a tight pleasure prodded by the length of cock inside him. The Maou gave another, more brutal thrust, and Yuuri clenched against the muscles on the Maou's back as he moaned.

"Please," cried Yuuri, as the Maou began working him like a wild beast would his mate—thrusting deep and fast, nearly upending Yuuri over the tiled floor. And Yuuri screamed a long, arousing wail as the beast rode on, meeting his merciless thrusts, feeling the sparking heat enveloping them together. And when Yuuri thought he could die with this intensity, the Maou slowed, and with one hand encircled Yuuri's length and milked it along with his sensuous thrusts.

"My Yuuri," he said, and then Yuuri's thoughts escaped him- there was a lightning heat that traveled from the tips of his toes, from the ends of his fingers. It blinded him with ecstacy, and he shuddered violently as he came, come shooting out to the tiles and their chests as he sobbed a pained "_yes_!" into the misty room. And then the Maou quickened his pace again, fucking hard into Yuuri's sensitized body, enormous member pounding into the boy with desperate need.

Then the Maou arched back with his eyes closed, gasping, and Yuuri was filled with a thick, warm liquid that filled him— a liquid so warm and so powerful it completed him. The taller man collapsed, forehead damp with sweat, covering Yuuri with his body, with his kisses, with his touches. And Yuuri didn't let him go.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in the past Maous?" asked Guntar curiously, watching as Yuuri pored over the books he had taken from the shelves. Yuuri sighed, leaning closer to read the text of one of the older ones.

"Well, since I am King I might as well know all about my powers."

Yuuri had recently discovered that lying was ten times easier when you were intent upon finding something out. The visit from the Maou had been three days ago, and he'd been so confused that he'd voluntarily walked into the tower library, anxious to search for the answer to the terrible mystery.

And... Yuuri was wondering if the Maou would ever come back.

Something caught his eye at the bottom of one of the translated text.

"What does this mean, Guntar? That the transference of power is the transference of seed?"

"Oh, that," said Guntar, leaning in to get a better view, "In many places, blood is known as the liquid of life, which is why it has such a great significance to rituals and pacts. Many ancients believe that drinking blood will retain their life, which gave rise to vampires, am I right?"

Yuuri nodded, but Guntar was in full lecture speed, and didn't notice. He brought a finger up, and closed his eyes as if reciting, "But in the old ways of the Mazoku, it is the seed of the male that is the "life liquid," because it is, quite literally, what brings new Mazoku to life."

"Ehh?"

Guntar shrugged, purely clinical, "Yes, well, there are many rituals in this world that has some sexual undertones. Priestesses, for example, are virgins so that they can invoke the gods in them. In the cruder sense, the gods 'take' their body through sex and transfer power to them."

Feeling quite sick, Yuuri put his hands to his head, "I've heard of something like that in our own world. A powerful spirit made a virgin pregnant."

Guntar nodded, "Yes, exactly. A transference of a god's power onto a mortal being. So, when something of a higher power wishes to transfer power to another, they would expel-"

Yuuri shot out of his chair, "Guntar! I just realized it!"

Guntar blinked up at him, startled, "Yes, your Majesty!"

A pause, then,

"It's time for dinner!" And Yuuri scrambled out of the tower room before Guntar could make out the tell-telling blush and the awkward way in which he ran.

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**Post A/N**: Other instances of god-sex is of course found in Greek mythology and some Chinese mythology, as well as an interesting anime called Fushigi Yuugi, where some speculations may say that Miaka's virginity was wholly important (had to be clean for the god) because they had sex each time Suzaku granted a wish. (only speculation, my friends.) However in history, many maidens who are "given" to the gods are given to be their wives, just like nuns these days are symbolically the pure wife of the personal Christian God as well.

And of course, the transference of the Spirit to the virgin Yuuri mentioned is Mother Mary and the Holy Spirit. The issue with drinking come for the Mazoku is fictional, however certain tribes believe that a rite of passage of a male is indeed given by drinking the seed of their elders- gives them strength, and a whole lot of awkward aftermaths, I imagine.


End file.
